


mafs oneshot: cotton candy

by kittymills



Series: married at first sight [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura pov, Can be read as a stand alone, Cotton Candy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, allurance, background sheith for setup, hints of sexytimes, lance really loves her okay, part of mafs au verse, self indulgent lance loving'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymills/pseuds/kittymills
Summary: Set during the events of mafs: foundation (after chapter 9 - but you don't need to have read mafs to read this, can be a stand alone)https://archiveofourown.org/works/13502366/chapters/30966316Lance keeps asking but Allura keeps turning him down, but its not for the reasons he might think.





	mafs oneshot: cotton candy

**Author's Note:**

> my mafs au 'verse has grown into something crazy huge and detailed in my head and part of it is Allura and Lance's relationship which is really super special to me. I love how much Lance loves her in this AU, it's fun to explore... and also sometimes Lance just will not stfu in my head so I just have to write something for him so he'll leave me alone long enough to get to the main story. also this is a bit rough because i am trying to get it out so I can get back to work on MAFS!

Art by [Boo](http://boosify.tumblr.com/)

* * *

 

 

“I can’t believe Keith got married before I did,” Lance muses and Allura has to smile.

The limo carrying Shiro and Keith rolls down the drive and the remaining guests start to turn around to head back inside. Lance is staring after them, almost forlornly and Allura guesses it’s only just occurred to him that he might have lost his best friend. A least temporarily.

“Well, he didn’t do it the traditional way though, did he?” she says.  Lance sniffs.

“Yeah, you’re right.  It doesn’t really count then, does it?”

“I suppose not,” she laughs but Lance doesn’t laugh with her.  He’s still frowning.

“Shiro’s nice though, right? You like him?” he turns to her, his gaze suddenly a little worried.

“Yes,” she nods, trying to reassure him. “He seems like he’ll be a good match for Keith. I think they’ll be happy together.”

“If Keith can keep his head out of his ass,” Lance mutters then and he casts one more look to where the limo’s taillights have disappeared into the distance.  She is about to head back into the reception hall when she realises Lance isn’t going to follow her.  She tugs on his hand.

“Lance?”

He doesn’t answer and she takes his arm, tucking herself against him and he tilts his head to rest against hers.  It’s handy that he’s standing one step above her. 

“I hope he’ll be okay,” he says softly and her heart swells at his concern. Lance had been such a driving force behind the events of today, his unshakable faith in the power of love sweeping up everyone into his storm. She knew he would eventually blame himself if it all goes badly. 

Her sweet, beautiful Lance. 

She kisses him lightly on the cheek and it shakes him out of his thoughts and he turns to gather her in his arms, his lips go straight to the juncture of her neck and shoulders and it makes her shiver.  She lifts her hand to the back of his neck and breathes him in.

“Let’s go home,” she whispers. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” she answers and brushes another kiss over his cheek.  He takes the time to turn to slip his arms around her narrow waist and lean in to steal a proper kiss. It makes her dizzy, and even after all the years and kisses they already had together, it still made her heart thump wildly in response.  Lance pulls back after a moment, leaving her breathless. 

She tries to ignore the slight tang of bitterness in Lance’s question. She knew it was a source of contention for Lance that they were engaged but still not actually living together.  It didn’t matter than almost everything she owned was at Lance’s place, it wasn’t enough.  He wanted it to be official and although she couldn’t blame him for it, she couldn’t yet agree to it either.

That she couldn’t explain to him the reason why is the worst part.

\---

“Live with me.”

Allura sits on the edge of the bed in Lance’s apartment slipping on a pair of delicate sandals. Behind her, Lance is sprawled undressed, still half asleep and recovering from the events of the wedding the day before.  She sighs in exasperation.

“Lance, we’ve talked about this. Not until after our wedding.”

“And when is that going to be? We still haven’t set a date. We’ve been engaged for two years!”

She’s not imagining the frustration in his voice when she looks over and Lance has pulled himself into a seated position, his bare back against the headboard and the sheets pooled in his lap. He’s lean and muscled and she remembers vividly how it felt to have that chest pressed up against her back as he moved behind her, his hands heavy on her hips. She has to swallow to dispel the image, the frown on her fiancé’s lips making something sink in her stomach.

“We will, soon,” she says firmly and for a brief moment she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince. 

She turns back to sliding on her other shoe, avoiding Lance’s gaze. She finds herself stiffening when the bed creaks and the mattress dips and then Lance is beside her, taking her hand in his. 

“Allura, is there something you’re not telling me?” he asks quietly and she refuses to look at him. “We’re happy, aren’t we? You haven’t changed your mind? You still want to marry me?”

His questions floor her and her mouth drops open. “Of course,” she says. “Lance, how could you think otherwise?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and the silence is heavy with reproach. She realises then how much her refusals must hurt him. She can see it in his eyes when she turns to look at him and it makes her heart crack in her chest.

“Lance, I… I just can’t. Not yet. Please understand.” 

He still doesn’t say anything when she pulls herself away.

\---

It plays on her mind all day, even as she goes through the motions of driving home and letting herself into the elegant townhouse she shares with her father. Her father that couldn’t be left alone for long, not yet.

The townhouse feels empty but she knows it’s not and she wanders from room to room with a sense of dread that becomes heavier and heavier in her gut.  She makes it to the bedroom and sees a pair of legs sticking out from the corner of the bed and in her panic, the first person she calls is Lance. 

\--

Her father’s fall is a bad one this time and she sits in the back of the ambulance as it screams its way to the hospital. Lance promises to meet her there, whispering words of calm and encouragement in her ear over the phone’s speakers and it’s all she can do to stop herself from crying.  It’s hard, it’s so hard to see her father lying prone on the stretcher, there’s dried blood in his snow-white hair and blood on her dress, but she ignores it. She’s had worse before.

When they arrive at the hospital, she’s shoved to the side and Alfor is rushed away. She’s left ringing her hands in the middle of the corridor until a nurse kindly ushers her to a chair in the waiting room. There’s something not right, she can’t seem to make her mind work, to process what’s happened and she doesn’t know if she should cry or scream or both. She has no idea how long she’s been waiting until Lance is suddenly there and she’s sobbing into his chest.

\--

The night has worn on and the resident doctors come out to tell her that her father is seriously unwell, but currently stable. She’s almost shaky with relief and Lance gives her a few moments alone to breathe. The relief that comes with the diagnosis is short lived, her mind catching on the phrase _seriously unwell,_ but she’s promised a chance to see him again and that’s all she wants. She sends Lance away to regroup as she waits to be granted visitation and when he shows up a couple of magazines and a tiny bar of chocolate, she’s hit with such a sense of gratitude and love it steals away her breath. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears that build again behind her eyes. Lance holds the magazines in front of him helplessly.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she cries. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” and then she launches herself against him.

He staggers back under the force before he collects his wits and curls his arms around her, dropping the magazines and the chocolates onto a nearby seat. “Hey, it’s just chocolate,” he chuckles. “It’s not sparkly like you really like, and I actually got it for your father but I’ll get you some too if you really want it.”

“Lance,” she half laughs, half wails and tightens her embrace around him and he smiles bemusedly at her reaction. But then his smile slips and he gently untangles her arms from him, seeking out her gaze with his own.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The hurt in his blue eyes makes her look away. “I… I couldn’t.”

“Allura, I love you. I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I know you can do this on your own but you shouldn’t have to. I will be whatever you need me to be,” he pauses to reach out to her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. “I’m glad you called me.”

The slip into Alfor’s room and it’s a shock to see him so pale against the sheets. The tubes streaming from his body, the palor of his normally dark, rich skin.  She almost wants to collapse and memories of her father assail her - her sitting on his shoulders as a child, consoling her after she spilt strawberry juice on her favourite dress, seeing her graduate, even the arguments over her chosen career when he would have preferred her to stay away from the front line and work in the hospitals instead. He’d always been so strong and capable and the one person she could look up to, the one she could lean on an know he would always be there for her with grace and wisdom.  

This... This wasn’t him. This is just a pale imitation, she tells herself fiercely. Then he stirs and she does her best to blink back her tears as she rushes to his side. Lance lingers at the doorway.

“Allura,” her father croaks out.  “My dear daughter.”

“Father.”  She can’t hide the sob in her voice and she takes his hand. It’s pale and papery against her own. A tear she can’t hide slides down her cheek and as if he knows, Lance moves to her side.

“Sir,” he says softly in greeting. He keeps his eyes downcast and Allura is grateful for the term of respect he offers.

Her father’s gaze slides to Lance, then away again.  When he looks at her, his eyes are full of reproach. “Allura, do you not remember what we talked about?”

“I do, father. But Lance is going to be my husband, I can’t hide this from him anymore. I don’t want to. I… I need him. Please understand. It’s been agony having to hide the truth from him.”

She feels torn, the desire of her father to keep his illness private, even from the man that would one day become his son in law, and the need to share this with Lance. She feels selfish but she needs Lance in this. She needs to lean on him because she’s been shouldering this burden for too long on her own. 

Lance steps closer and lays his hand on her shoulder. The warmth from his presence and his contact gives her strength. Alfor glances up at Lance, his gaze hard, but he’s tired and weak and he can’t hold it.  He sighs and sinks back into the hospital bed. 

“Allura, all I’ve wanted is for you to be happy.”

She looks up at Lance but his face is unreadable. 

“I am father, I am.”

“Then… that’s all I can ask. What ever you need-“ and Alfor’s voice trails off into a whispered exhale and Allura has to fight the urge to panic. She grips his hand and the tears are flowing down her face in earnest now.

“Father!”

“Allura, he’s just sleeping. It’s okay,” Lance rubs her shoulder. He points at the monitors and their readings. The lines are strong and the numbers tick over.  “Look, see.  He’s just resting again.”

It takes a moment for her heart to stop racing and then she turns into Lance’s waiting arms. He slides his hand up and down her back in long soothing strokes and before long, she gives a final sniff and straightens up.  “I’m sorry,” she says primly, and wipes her eyes. “I’m alright now.

Lance watches her closely but she offers him a watery smile as she starts to fuss around Alfor’s bedside. She smooths the sheets to avoid looking at him. Alfor stirs and murmurs her name and then her emotions are rolling again. 

“Do you want some time with him alone? I can come back later.”

“Yes,” she says softly, looking down at her father’s form on the hospital bed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be just outside.”  He brushes a light kiss over her head and slips out.

It’s a few hours later when she finds him dozing in the one of the small couches in the family waiting area. His chin is resting on his chest and his long legs are stretched out in front of him. With his eyes closed and his trademark smirk softened by sleep, he looks so young and she’s momentarily overwhelmed by just how much she loves him. 

She takes the seat beside him and lifts his hand to slide her fingers between his and she holds it to her cheek. She doesn’t try to hide her tears and the dampness on her cheeks seems to rouse him.

“Allura?”

“Thank you,” she whispers when he opens his arms to her and she lays her head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and steady against her ear and she takes comfort in the fact it beats for her.

“Is that why you kept saying no?”  Lance asks her softly. He threads a hand through the loose waves of her hair that flows over her back and for a few moments she just absorbs the warmth of him. 

“I’m sorry if you thought it was because I had doubts.”

“Princess, I’m just glad you told me. Whatever you need, okay.”

Her chest squeezes at his pet name for her.  She had hated it at first, until she realised he wasn’t mocking her. He said it with a reverence he never gave anyone else. 

“You. I need you.” She kisses him softly.  “Take me home?”

\--

It’s much later when Lance lays her down on the sheets as lovingly as he always does but this time there’s something different, and she almost wants to weep at the joy of it. The relief she feels no longer having to hide a part of her heart is palpable and she’s sure he can feel it too. She arches against him as he trails his lips against her ribs, over her stomach and then further south until she’s moaning softly against the sheets. Her hands thread through the short strands of his hair to hold him where she needs him and he doesn’t stop until she’s shattering into starlight and sobbing his name. Before she can catch her breath, he’s kissing his way back up the glossy darkness of her skin until his mouth finds hers and he pushes her knees apart gently to ease his way inside. She’s still gasping, still shattering when he rocks his hips against her, the intensity in his eyes sweeping her away and when he’s finally panting above her, his body sweat slicked and sweet, she pulls him to her.

“Live with me,“ he breathes the entreaty against the curve of her breast.

There’s a long pause and Lance raises his head. His hair is mussed but his blue eyes are clear but wary. Allura traces a finger down his cheek. 

“Yes.”


End file.
